


Promises Kept

by OrangeRaven989



Series: Annette Rarepair Week 2021 [7]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Annette Rarepair Week (Fire Emblem), Annette Rarepair Week 2021, Established Relationship, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Promises, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29247036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeRaven989/pseuds/OrangeRaven989
Summary: Annette's late for the Millennium Festival reunion of the Golden Deer class. Will Hilda still be waiting for her like they promised on the night of the ball?Annette Rarepair Week 2021, Day 7: Wish
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Series: Annette Rarepair Week 2021 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136132
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Promises Kept

**Author's Note:**

> Given how many times I namedropped Hilda in these fics it's only fitting that we end with a little Annette/Hilda, no? Rarepair Week was such a blast and I loved writing all these stories and giving my girl Annette the love she deserves.
> 
> Go get that S support, Annette!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Annette was late, despite her best efforts. Though, to be fair, a war was raging across the entire continent of Fodlan; one that had caught up her country as well as the Alliance in it. It wasn’t exactly easy to get away and to secure travel accommodations, especially to what had been understood to be a dilapidated ruin for the past five years. Carriages to Garreg Mach were not easy to come by, and even then they weren’t cheap. House Dominic may have been a noble house, but its funds were certainly not going to be used on such trivialities.

So she hoofed it, and she missed the Millennium Festival by a week or so. Not too bad, all things considered, but her heart weighed heavy in her chest. She’d broken her promise. Promises, actually. There were two, and she managed to keep neither of them. She’d promised the Professor that she’d return with the rest of the Golden Deer class, and now they were all probably there waiting for her, thinking she abandoned them. Claude and Lysithea and Marianne and… well, the rest of them. Especially… _her_.

Annette’s cheeks flushed. The other promise. She swallowed hard and stopped in her tracks, glancing up at the gates that stood before her. Gates that were no longer perfectly intact, gates made of crumbling stone, surrounding the ruins of a town that had been abandoned for too long. The damaged walls of the monastery lay beyond, and she could make out the familiar sights that were just slightly different now, through the jaded lens of five years of war. Towers that once seemed foreboding and impenetrable were full of holes.

Garreg Mach. She was back, and there was no one to welcome her.

She walked through the marketplace, deserted save for a few people sweeping up rubble and beginning to piece together the beginnings of new shops. She shivered—the Guardian Moon was upon them and the air was nearly frigid, but she had an inkling that it wasn’t just the cold that made her feel that way. It was just after the anniversary of… it. The ball. The tower. The… promise. She continued on her way and entered the entrance hall, the familiar scenery hitting her hard, the scent of food cooking in the nearby dining hall wafting through the air. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but it still triggered the nostalgia she feared would overwhelm her as she made her way in. She felt the sting of tears.

Just outside the dining hall she found Lysithea, sitting with her back against the wall as if waiting for someone. Annette’s eyes went wide. The girl had grown—she could tell, even though she was sitting down. Her features were a little sharper, her hair more billowy, her dress elegant. Simply gorgeous. Annette hurried over, and Lysithea glanced up with a start.

“Annette?” she said, almost breathlessly.

Annette could hardly contain herself. “Lys!” she said, trying to keep her voice low so that it didn’t reverberate halfway across the monastery. “Oh, Goddess, look at you! You’re so pretty!”

Lysithea cleared her throat and averted her gaze. “Y-yes, well… you look very nice, too.”

Annette beamed. “It’s so good to see you,” she said. “Sorry I’m so late, I couldn’t get a ride here and had to travel by foot most of the way.”

Lysithea softened. “I’m glad you made it,” she said. “You know, Hilda was—”

Annette groaned. “I know, I know,” she replied. “I can’t imagine how mad she must be at me.”

“She’s not,” Lysithea replied, shaking her head. “She’s not mad at all. She’s just… really worried.” She frowned. “You know how she is, she’ll never admit it or show it on her face. But… you can tell.”

“Where is she?”

Lysithea shrugged. “Don’t know,” she replied. “I haven’t seen her today.” She thought for a moment before perking up. “Oh, but she did mention yesterday that she would be meeting with Claude this morning. Perhaps she’s still in the war council room?”

Annette raised an eyebrow. “War… council?”

“Oh,” Lysithea continued. “We… um. Claude and the Professor… they decided that we’re going to fight back against the Empire. They’ve repurposed the old meeting room on the second floor.”

The words washed over Annette, and her eyes widened. They were going to fight back? Claude, who was now the leader of the entire Alliance, and the Professor, who was not only still alive but had the power of the Sword of the Creator and whatever that entailed. Her heart thumped. It was almost like… hope. Hope that this awful war might finally be coming to an end, that there was a force that could push back and prevent what had for so long seemed inevitable. Her lips curved into just the faintest hint of a smile.

She needed to get to the war council room. But first, she glanced back at Lysithea. “Hey,” she said. “Are you waiting here for someone?”

Lysithea’s face reddened. “Y-yes,” she replied huffily. “What of it?”

Annette’s eyes got big. “Oh! Who is it?” Her smile widened. “Is it Linny?”

Cheeks puffed. “I can eat with whoever I want!”

Squealing, Annette swooned and scurried away, leaving a “best of luck” with her on the way out. She hurried along toward the reception hall, above which the upper offices and the newly christened war council room sat. She marveled at the fact that the building was still perfectly intact. She hadn’t reckoned that Garreg Mach was a fortress, but much of the inner parts of it held up like one. Hopefully with a little elbow grease the holes could be patched up and the place could open again. She sighed. Maybe once peace came back. The thought of potentially losing the academy as a resource for people all over Fodlan—rich and poor, citizen or refugee alike—made her stomach sink to depths she preferred not to think about.

Her steps echoed loud in the hall and into the stairwell as she ascended. The world around her was still and quiet; such a foreign atmosphere for a place that she remembered as a bustling campus full of energetic people, students and faculty alike. Now the halls were largely empty, and the few faces she did happen to pass were solemn and battlescarred. The sight made her heart hurt, but she kept forward and eventually made it to the war council room.

Peeking in, she found Claude seated at the far end of the table, hunched over a large spread that looked like a map, quill pen in hand. There was no one else in the room. He glanced up when she closed the door and stared for a long moment before the realization dawned on him. Then he smiled wide.

“By the gods,” he said. “Took you long enough to make it here, Annette.”

“Hey, Claude,” she replied, returning the gesture. She approached the table and glanced down at the map he was studying. It was a depiction of Empire territory, and she could make out notes scrawled all over the margins. So Lysithea’s words were true—they really were going to push back against the Empire. Something swelled in her chest. She wanted to bend Claude’s ear, discuss the strategies they would take, figure out the details… but she had other things to take care of first. So after a few moments of catching up she brought up the topic.

“Lysithea said Hilda might be here,” she said, lowering her voice. She chewed her lip. “Have you seen her?”

Claude smiled again. “She’s been waiting for you,” he replied. “Restlessly waiting, I might add.” He chuckled quietly. “She’s been trying not to show it, but we can all tell.” He looked past her toward the door. “If you’re looking for her, she might be at the Goddess Tower. She’s been going there every day since we got back.”

The words encircled Annette’s heart and squeezed. She winced. It made perfect sense, though the rest of the class probably wondered what on earth she was doing there. They didn’t know. None of them knew. It had been their secret—their promise. Their wish. She could only imagine how much Hilda was hurting. But there was also a part of her that was, deep down, almost happy to hear it. That Hilda still felt so strongly. That the five years since they last saw each other hadn’t dulled her feelings. There was a certain comfort in that.

With a hurried “thanks” and “we’ll catch up later” she darted out of the war council room and back down the stairs. The Goddess Tower wasn’t far. She focused and pushed as hard as she could—she’d grown stronger and faster over the years out of necessity. No longer was she a scrawny little thing. Now she was fit enough to wield a heavy axe, just like Hilda. She pushed through the burn in her calves, ignoring the looks from the few random people she passed along the way, until finally she made it to the tower. She scurried up the steps, her breathing thin, her lungs almost screaming, but she made it.

And there she was. Hilda Valentine Goneril, standing at the window, leaning forward and propped up by one hand, gazing out. The light haloed her head. Annette gaped, her eyes tracing over the pink locks that now hung freely down her back. She didn’t look any taller, but she was definitely still fit, still lithe and supple underneath the battle-ready clothing.

They’d communicated via letters for the vast majority of their time apart, but due to the violence and the uncertainty, especially in Dominic territory and in Derdriu, it had been impossible for them to see each other in person. And when Hilda wrote her to say that she’d be going back to the monastery for the Millennium Festival despite the war and the disappearance of the Professor, Annette had hastily replied that she’d meet her there. Despite the danger, being able to see Hilda again was too important.

Hopefully she didn’t think Annette abandoned her.

Annette’s voice was gone. She tried to call out but only a squeak made it through. It was loud enough to catch Hilda’s attention, though, and she slowly turned and caught Annette’s eye. It took a moment before her face lit up.

She stood in silence, her eyes wavering. Annette had never seen Hilda look like that before—a woman who was always so confident, so sure of herself, so stoic. Even from where she stood Annette could make out the streaks of tears through her makeup. Hilda buckled, briefly, her lips silently mouthing Annette’s name. Then, in an instant, she dashed across the room and threw her arms around her, clutching tight, burying her face in the nook between Annette’s neck and shoulder.

“Oh, Goddess,” she mumbled, muffled by Annette’s coat. “You’re here, Annette. You really came back.”

Annette stammered a moment, the action too quick for her to process. But she slowly wrapped her arms around Hilda in return, pulling her even closer, nuzzling the top of her head and breathing her in. She was warm… so warm, especially against the cold air surrounding them. “I’m here, Hilda,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”

They held each other for a long time, Annette softly stroking Hilda’s hair. She pressed a kiss into the top of her head. Hilda shivered, then finally lifted her eyes and smiled before meeting Annette’s lips with her own. Annette jolted, breathing in sharp through her nose and inhaling Hilda’s scent along with it. She smelled sweet—the same as she did five years ago—and the memories immediately hit her like a burlap sack of rocks. She pushed back, returning the kiss with vigor, blushing when Hilda moaned into her mouth.

Eventually they parted and stood facing each other, hands on each other’s shoulders and hips, staring into each other’s eyes in a silent moment. Annette’s heart was racing. It had taken forever and a day, but she finally made it back to Hilda. And she looked incredible.

“I almost didn’t recognize you, Annette,” Hilda said, finally breaking the silence. “You’ve… grown so much.” She giggled nervously. “And your hair, it’s so pretty.”

Annette was lost for words. Her voice was still stuck in her throat, and her eyes couldn’t stop roaming Hilda’s body. Not that she wasn’t a bombshell back then, too, but still. This was something else entirely.

Finally she found her voice. “Claude said you come here every day?”

Hilda chuckled again, her eyes trailing off. “Yeah,” she said. “I know it’s silly, but… I feel connected to you here.” Her eyes snapped back. “Ever since we made our wish on the night of the ball.”

Annette let a smile play at her lips. “I guess things didn’t turn out exactly how we wished they would, though.”

“I don’t know about that,” Hilda replied. She tilted her head coyly. “We wished that we’d still be together… that we’d come back for the Millennium Festival together.” She chewed her lip. “And, well, we kind of did.”

Annette could feel her pulse quickening. They hadn’t been together over the years, but they still communicated. They hadn’t come back to the monastery together, but here they were. They’d found each other again in the end. So it wasn’t like their wish didn’t come true.

Maybe.

“Hey,” Annette said after a moment. “Do you wanna make another wish?”

“It’s not the night of the ball, silly,” Hilda replied. “You missed it by a whole week!”

Annette puffed her cheeks. “You make it sound like I did it on purpose.” Then she softened. “Thank you, by the way.”

Hilda raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

“For worrying about me,” she continued. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way, but… I appreciate it.”

With a teary smile Hilda reached out and cupped Annette’s cheek. “I love you, Annette,” she said, voice impossibly soft. “I’m so happy you’re back.” Then she closed her eyes and leaned in for another kiss.

When they parted Annette could hardly stand her knees were so weak. They sat by the window, Hilda’s head on Annette’s shoulder, looking out over the monastery as the frost set in. Annette threaded her fingers through Hilda’s, sighing, leaning her head to rest against her partner’s. Everything was still in that moment. Her heart thumped but she let it and she smiled at it. No need to fight the feelings.

“So, about that wish,” Annette finally said.

Hilda glanced up without lifting her head. “Yeah?”

“How about starting a life together after the war ends?”

The words hung between them for a long moment. Then Hilda giggled. “Why waste a wish on that?” she replied.

Annette’s eyes went wide. “Huh?”

“Isn’t that a given?” she retorted. “Like, we’re definitely gonna just do that without the Goddess’s help, right?” She grinned. “So, like, let’s wish for endless sweets or something.”

Annette blinked, stonefaced for a second, then snorted and shook her head. Endless sweets would be perfect, especially if she was sharing them with Hilda as they started their life together. It was impossible to love her more than she already did, but she’d find a way.

“Never change, Hilda,” she said, still chuckling. “I mean it.”

Hilda yawned. “Wanna head back?”

“Not yet,” Annette replied, shaking her head. “I actually have one… other thing… I’d like to wish for.” She caught Hilda’s eye and winked.

Hilda feigned shock. “Annette Fantine Dominic, in front of the _Goddess_?”

She grinned. “Well… yeah.”

A moment of silence, then a mischievous grin. “Your wish is my command.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Find me on Twitter: [OrangeRaven989](https://twitter.com/OrangeRaven989)


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